Flowers For Scrapper
by Shadsie
Summary: Lanaryu was a desert in the present, a green valley-slash-industrial area in the past. Link didn't think any humans had ever lived there.  He was wrong. When he saw the man and his daughter walk through Time, he had to follow them home and learn more.


_**Disclaimer:** The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo. No profit is being made. This is not canon, just my own expansion on it because Nintendo probably never anticipated how obsessive their fans could be or that some writers find their properties a good platform for world- building practice. _

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><p>Link knew that the Timeshift Stones created bubbles in time that took him back to a certain period hundreds of years in the past. They were only located in the Lanayru Desert. He'd assumed that only robots, insects and monsters lived in that ancient land. He was wrong.<p>

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><p><strong>FLOWERS FOR SCRAPPER<strong>

**A Skyward Sword Fan Fiction by Shadsie**

Link was back in the desert. This country wasn't a part of his mission at the moment, but he had come back to the area to search for rare insects needed by Bertie to improve potions. One might question how Bertie even knew of the existence of these foreign arthropods, but a few of them were known around the sky-islands. Sand Cicadas were far more plentiful in this surface desert, however, and Link really wanted an improved version of that Guardian medicine that healed all wounds even as they were made and gave him a feeling of invincibility before facing certain temple-dwelling creatures. Luv and Bertie had outdone themselves on that concoction – it was better than any armor.

Frustratingly, to make it the best it could be, he absolutely needed those stupid bugs. To make it through certain parts of the desert, he needed to hit Timeshift Stones to change the sinksand to solid ground. Link liked the little glimpses he got into the past. The desert had apparently once been a green plain, slightly dry already. He surmised that the time period he was seeing in the time-distorted areas was when the land was becoming desertified. Even the dry plain that he saw was much greener than the land of his time. There was a certain lonely beauty to be found in the desert, but the fact that the area was once a fertile valley made him feel sad.

What made him feel even sadder was coming across the rusted heaps of old robots. He'd heard a strange buzzing sound from the rusted remains when he drew near to them. Upon hitting Timeshift Stones and learning what those heaps once were, he'd realized to his horror that they were artificial lifeforms who probably had remnants of their minds still trapped within their non-functioning bodies and had been trying to speak to him, perhaps asking him for help. Link wondered how long this incomplete death had lasted for them. The only thing that Fi could tell him was that the distorted areas were "hundreds of years" in the past. She never specified a century. He wondered if that was because she was hiding information from him, which wasn't like her.

The Goddess Sword hit a stray stone when Link saw a sandy area he wanted an easy walk over. He'd hoped to find a few treasures along the way. He was sure he'd seen some amber relics around this area the last time he'd put it into a past-state. There were no robots in this area to be rude to him, so all was quiet. He watched the winds pass in the altered area and watched the tumbleweeds roll in "the Future." Seeing both time periods side by side was surreal.

Link suddenly tensed. He saw a tall figure appear in front of him seemingly out of nowhere, some distance away. He unsheathed his sword and braced himself for battle. The creature looked like a Technoblin, but taller and thinner. There was another much shorter figure following it. Neither monster seemed to know he was there. This wasn't surprising. Bokoblins were horribly nearsighted. He crept up slowly.

"Fi, analyze the tall creature," he ordered. His sword flashed obediently. "What is it and how do I kill it?"

Fi's voice droned back to him. "My analysis indicates that the target is a human male, approximately forty-six years old and in good health. You may use any number of techniques fatal to humans to kill him, but I do not recommend it. He indicates no hostility and is not a threat to you, Master."

Link crept closer. Indeed, the creature that looked like a Technoblin was a Hylian man wearing goggled armor similar to what those creatures wore. He carried one of their electrical-swords, but it was inactive. In his other hand, he carried what appeared to be a basket with a leather lid. The smaller figure beside him was a little girl who looked to be about seven or eight years old in a lavender dress with lace on the edges. The girl wore her hair in pigtails and if "adorable" was an attack, Link would have been dead. Both the man and the girl had dark skin.

"Hey!" Link called out to them, but they apparently did not hear him. The pair stopped right in front of him to pluck a bright magenta-colored Ancient Flower from the ground.

Fi popped out of the Goddess Sword. "It is unlikely that they will hear you, Master. You technically do not exist in this time."

"But…" Link contended, "The robots saw and heard me just fine."

"The Ancient Robots do not process Time the same way that humans do," Fi answered.

"I affect things in this time! But! But!"

Fi had already gone back into the sword and remained silent, leaving Link with a whole host of questions. He decided to watch the man and the girl and to listen in on them.

"These flowers are getting scarcer. When the Goddess made our robot-pals, back when I was a lad, they were plentiful."

"Mom and I are tryin' to grow them in our garden!"

The man reached down and rubbed his girl's head. "That's right, kiddo, but the drying land's got me worried."

The man and the girl resumed walking. Link followed and watched in horror as they walked toward the edge of the time-shift. As they edged toward the glowing line, the young swordsman cried out and was unheard. His guts clenched as he braced himself to watch the two become piles of dry bones like so many Bokoblins and Moblins. It didn't happen. The man and his daughter simply vanished, walking outside of Time.

Link ran on over into the Present. He looked around frantically for a nearby Timeshift Stone. He found one atop a stone pillar and sent his Beetle tool after it. The land shifted and to his joy, he found the man and the little girl again. He'd shifted over a large area. He resumed following them, his curiosity peaked by seeing humans in this place that he thought was devoid of humans, present and past.

The little girl sang. "Pretty flowers, lots of flowers for Scrapper!"

"We don't need many. This last one should provide him with enough oil to keep going for a while. We can go home and have lunch and see how your mom's doing on repairing the solar-sailer. I hope Scrapper's not being a pain as usual."

"You know he's never a pain with mom!" the little girl laughed, "He's only a pain with you and Chain. He likes girls."

"I suppose it's a side-effect from being made directly by the hands of Hylia that he'd favor women. He's a touch different than the other models in his series. I wonder if I can get a de-bug program in him…"

The girl giggled and skipped behind her father.

"Scrapper… and he responds to girls… It can't be the same one we know, can it?" Link asked.

"I suggest we follow these humans if you want to find out, Master," his sword replied.

Link followed the pair down the side of a small canyon. He had to hit another Timeshift Stone that he found there, but caught sight of them again on the canyon floor. This time, they were surrounded by Technoblins. The little girl screamed and stayed close to her father. He charged up his own electro-sword and countered the beasts. Link would have been impressed if he wasn't responding to his reflexes and instincts. He ran headlong to the group and cut down three of the goblins. The father cut down the remaining three.

When the carnage was over, the man lifted his helm and goggles to look at the creatures' smoking remains. "You alright, honey?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," the girl said with a nod, clinging to the leg of his denim overalls. "Are you alright, Daddy?"

"Yeah, yeah, Charley, I'm fine. I didn't think I'd gotten all of them…. Guess I did… adrenaline and all.

Link was on his knees, his shield out, panting and recovering from a nasty shock he'd gotten. He looked at the little girl. She was looking right at him. She stared and then she quickly turned away and took her father by the hand. Link got up, shook himself and resumed following them. He noticed trees all around him – not like in Faron, but more like in Skyloft, sparse. Their branches were thorny.

He heard the barking of a dog. A large tan and black dog ran out from the shade of a tree to greet the man and little Charley when they'd come to the other side of the small canyon. There was a little house nestled into the canyon wall. Its roof was made of silver metal, inlaid with golden designs that shone only where the sun hit it. The designs were subtle and they pulsed with light. The house itself appeared to be made of wood, with a wooden porch. Next to the little house, parked in the sun was a gleaming metal boat about as twice as long as Skipper's. Upon it was raised a sail that Link noted looked remarkably like his sailcloth. The blue and white fabric gleamed with similar circuitry-designs as the roof of the family home.

The man took off his Technoblin-armor and laid it on the porch beside a chair there. He called up to a trio of figures aboard silver boat. A teenaged boy in jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt vaulted down. A woman with red hair done up in a bun looked down – the contrast of her dark skin to her red hair made Link give her a second look. She had some kind of tool he did not recognize in her hand. A third figure aboard the ship was actually hovering in the bed. He moved via a propeller atop his head. Link recognized him instantly.

"Yeah, that's Scrapper, or it sure looks like him. What do you think about this, Fi?"

Fi came out of his sword and stood beside him. "My analysis indicates that this is indeed Unit LD-301S Scrapper. There is an aspect of his thought-pattern circuitry that is unique among the Ancient Robots; therefore I must conclude that this is the same LD-301S Scrapper that we are familiar with."

"Hmm," Link muttered. "I wonder if these people have any connection to Gondo's family, then."

"Master, there is an 85% probability that these are Gondo's ancestors and relations."

"Amazing! I need to watch them, Fi! I need to know more! This is fascinating!"

"Master, the mission…"

"I can spend a day looking back into history, can't I? Please?"

"I do not understand your request 'please,' Master."

"Then rest quietly and I will call you when I need you."

"As you wish, Master."

"How's it comin', Fern?" The father of the family asked the woman aboard the boat as he patted his son on the back.

"Almost done, just need a little oil to get the hover-engine primed. Did you and Charley find enough flowers?"

"Yep. Got 'em right here in my basket. Had a run in with some Bokoblins, but I took care of 'em."

"Fenwick! Are you hurt? If one hair on my little baby is out of place, I swear…"

Fern came hopping down out of the boat.

"I'm fine, Mama!" Charley called. "Daddy was really brave! And someone helped us."

"Well, where is this someone? I'd like to thank him!"

"There wasn't anyone," Fenwick said, confused.

"Well, maybe you didn't see him," Charley said. "He was all transparent and stuff, so I think he was a ghost."

Fenwick laughed. "The light can play tricks of the eye in the canyon. Let's go inside. I've got five Oil Flowers for the press. Scrapper will be running more optimally in no-time and we might even get the boat engine up and running."

The man, his wife and his son headed inside the house, clearly expecting their little girl and their robot to do the same.

Scrapper hovered down to the little girl. "It is fortunate to see you well, Mistress Charlotte."

"I told you!" the girl retorted, "Call me Charley!"

Scrapper looked directly at Link. "Who are you? Step away from the girl you creep!"

"Huh, wha? It's okay! It's okay!" Link pleaded. "I don't want to hurt her! I'm a friend!"

"You can see him?" Charley asked.

"Of course. Just because your idiot father can't doesn't mean anything."

"Daddy's not an idiot!"

"Has this creepy short fellow hurt you in any way, Mistress Charley?"

"No, not at all! He helped!"

"I'll be keeping an eye on him."

"Come on in!" Charley said to Link. "I know you're a ghost and all, but that doesn't mean you can't rest a while."

"A ghost, Mistress Charley?"

"He's transparent like a ghost."

"He looks solid… and short….to me."

"Maybe you shouldn't say anything. Mom and Dad will think your visual processor's busted again and they'll try to fix you like the last time it got busted."

"Ooh, that hurt!"

Charley and Scrapper entered the little abode and Link followed. He was thankful that Fi was laying low. The last thing this family needed was their robot acting loopy over something most of them couldn't see. He did wonder why the rude little Lanayru Designation model was so eager to serve a child when that was his initial objection to serving him. Perhaps it was because Charley was a cute little girl and he was just an awkward, short teenaged boy. The swordsman wondered if Charley's big brother got a lot of lip from that bucket of bolts. Probably.

As soon as he entered the house, Link's eyes were dazzled. There were things in the home he recognized – a humble wooden table, a couch, chairs… but there were many things in the house that he did not recognize, things that had what he knew were of a machine-nature, but could not place. Fenwick emptied the contents of his basket into one such machine, pressed a button on it, and a spigot emptied a slick, yellow-green oil into a waiting container. The woman, Fern, popped open a tiny lid on Scrapper's head and poured half the contents of the container into him.

"Now, Scrapper," she said, "to let it fully distribute into your system, you need to power down for a couple of hours. I'm putting you into sleep-mode."

"As you wish, Mistress Fern," the robot replied, retracting his propeller and hovering above one of the cushions on the couch. Fern pressed a glass touchpad that Link could barely make out beneath a hidden panel on Scrapper's backside. The light went out in his visible eye and the electricity holding his hands up powered down. He looked….almost adorable "asleep" on the couch like a tuckered out little boy – who called him rude things in the Future. Link noticed that he was especially accommodating to these people. Perhaps the full measure of his rudeness wasn't an original part of his programming and was something that he gained at a later time. Link also had the melancholic thought that it was probable that Scrapper had long forgotten all of this. He'd indicated upon coming down to the desert once that he'd had a feeling of familiarity to the region, but nothing more.

Link watched the family in silence. The boy whom Link thought could have passed for one of his underclassmen helped his mother in chopping vegetables with devices that were strange and cooked them over panels of heat made without the benefit of open fire. The little girl, Charley, sat with her father at the table. He used an electrical tool to gently chisel away at and polish something that made Link gasp. Fenwick held a small, smooth Timeshift Stone and it was glowing blue, like the ones he'd hit out in the desert when they were active. The color of this one was much clearer, however, and slightly darker. Link wondered how the man could chisel and poke away at it without it having any apparent effect on himself, his family or his surroundings.

"What's that, Daddy?" Charley said, kneeling on the seat of a chair and leaning over the table for a closer look.

"It's a Chronolite," the father said. "We also call them Timeshift Stones. They're a source of energy."

"Like the sun with our solar panels?" Charley asked.

"Yep, but these draw upon a much deeper energy – Time itself."

"Ooh!"

"Darn right, 'ooh!' Your ol' Dad and the folks at the refinery have been working hard to figure out how to make all kinds of things with 'em. The Great Gate at the Temple of Time is made of Chronolite. We think we can make them jewelry-sized… maybe even make musical instruments so people can play Time like music. They're quite a gift the Goddess gave us, just like the crystal plumes of her shed wings. We can only do what Master Thunder Dragon allows, though, since he's in charge of this province and he knows more about them than we do."

"How do they work?"

Link leaned over as well. He was as curious about this as the child was.

"They work," Fenwick began, "by making little pockets in Time. Some stones make little pockets and some stones make big pockets. The affected areas vary, too. Sometimes, the time-bubble is a nanosecond, sometimes years. We are able to channel energy from that and convert it into electricity, heat and the like. No one's been able to find a stone that takes us back to the beginning of the world yet, and the only stones we've found that can see the future have taken us to desert areas and those ones seem to be fixed to a certain time-bubble where we cannot see anything that happened in between. Those ones frighten the robots so we try not to use them. We're trying to refine the stones so we can better use the time-reactions as fuel and we think we can perfect time travel with them if we can hit upon just the right refining method. I think there can be a lot learned from the past, and maybe even from the future."

"Has anyone made time travel work, Daddy?"

"We did have a guy who managed to make a stone take him backwards seven years, then forwards again, but that's the limit to how we've refined it. Some say the Great Gate at the Temple of Time can project subjects across thousands of years but those are only for use by the Goddess and the Three Golden Goddesses, their Oocca and their Sheikah, and then again, the Gate is supposedly super-refined, chiseled and powered in a manner that only divine beings know how to do."

"Why can't we use it?"

"It is said the Gate of Time would crush a mortal, body and soul. It would take a very special mortal to be able to go through it, one chosen by the Gods themselves."

"Oh. Say, Daddy? If anyone was able to use one of the Chr-chr- Timestones in the future to come back to now, would we be able to see them?"

"Well, I don't know, honey. No one saw Stewart when he went back in time seven years. He said when he came back that he saw you in your mommy's tummy, but she didn't see him and I didn't, either."

"I thought maybe the guy who helped us might be a time traveler, but maybe he really is a ghost. He's leaning over the table right next to me."

Fenwick took the magnifying glass off his eye and looked to where his daughter indicated. "Are you sure you don't have another imaginary friend? Remember how we said it would make Fido jealous?"

The dog resting underneath the table let out a yawn as he stretched.

"Fido," Link whispered… "Fi…do…"

"No, Daddy, he's not imaginary, but he is transparent. I think he's talking, but I can't hear a word he's saying."

"I don't see anyone, honey, but if you want to play, that's alright."

"He looks a lot like Captain Link."

Link stood straight up. "Captain Link?"

Fenwick laughed. "Well, we know it can't be Captain Link, then. He left to help the people in the city of Loft and last I heard he's alive and well."

"You remember Captain Link, don't you, Daddy? We met him in the port when he and his crew were gonna go after those mean pirates. He had that big ship with the huge sun-sail."

"That was… before people began leaving," Fenwick said sadly.

Link nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something crackle to life behind him. Fern manipulated the dials on a strange machine with something that looked like a grate on the front of it. It sat comfortably upon a shelf next to the strange white box of cold that she'd been taking food items out of.

"This is the news, coming at you every hour upon the hour courtesy Greater Eldin Radio Broadcasting. Sandstorms are brewing in the North Lanayru region. All mechanical lifeforms are advised to take shelter until 8PM Central Standard Time. Faron Region- bzzzt! Under attack by undead beings- bzzt! Some are calling it the Zombie Bokoblin Apocalypse. Bzzzt!...some attacks have been successfully fended off… Bzzt! Gorons refuse to evacuate…bzzzt With the growing dangers in all regions, Hylia's children are advised to evacuate to the central region of Loft… bzzzt!"

"Pheh! Turn that off!" Fenwick grumbled. "Nothing but doom and gloom. That's the news for ya!"

"Maybe we should go," Chain – the teenager - said, looking up from some kind of hand-held electronic game he'd begun playing. "I mean, most of the people have been chased out of this region and we can't keep the Bokoblins from stealing our stuff. You didn't leave your armor on the porch did you?"

"I think I did."

Chain bolted up and went outside. He quickly came back in with the gear, untouched. He had a relieved look on his face. "They busted up our sun-sailer, but now that we've got it fixed, I say we beat it for Loft! You and Charley got attacked today. They're getting more aggressive."

"Ah, but son," Fenwick countered, "The weakness of the monsters is obvious: They never do anything on their own. They can only steal our technology and modify it to fit their bodies. They are incapable of inventing anything on their own. They're created by the evil energies for just one purpose and that's all they can serve. Oh, I've heard that every once in a while, a monster might grow a soul, but it's even rarer for that to happen than in a robot. Monsters can only follow instincts and orders. They can never invent. They're uncreative. That is why we will beat them."

"But everyone is going to Loft, honey," Fern said. "We're the last family left in the Lanayru Region. Even the folks at the refinery are commuting to work from Loft."

"Cowards, huddling together like scared animals. This is my home. I'm not ceding it to anyone or anything, man, monster or creeping desert."

"I can't meet any girls out here, Dad!" Chain whined.

"Well, now that the boat's fixed, we can all take a shopping trip to Loft, okay? Then we're comin' right back here to defend our home. Iffin' we're lucky, maybe we can bring back a few folks with us to defend our beautiful Lanayru."

Fern got a dour look. "I can't help but think that an all out war is brewing and that the dark clouds will envelop us all."

Fenwick gave her a smile. "That's why we have sun-sailers. They can take us above the clouds."

The wind howled wildly outside the windows. The lighting within the house flickered and the windows became coated in sand and dust. In an instant, Link felt Time itself wash over him, leaving him to stand in an open ruin with piles of dust all around him. The harsh desert sunlight assaulted him from gaping holes. Areas where the home's walls had been made of stone stayed and a few very dry timbers remained. There was a roof above the young swordsman, but it was rusted through with wide holes. The peculiar white cold-box lay on its side, its doors open, filled with sand and coated with a thick layer of dust. Link picked up a box – the "radio" as he remembered it being called, and poured dust and sand out of the place where its grating once was.

"What happened, Fi?" he asked.

The sword spirit appeared. "The Timeshift did not hold, Master. I suspect an unforeseen stray element is responsible for shifting the area into the Present."

Without warning, Link brought out this Gust Bellows from his magical gear-pouch. He began blowing away hills of dust. He uncovered rusted machines, dry and nearly-petrified wood bits and the rusted metal remains of furniture – old springs and legs. To his astonishment, he found an old chest that looked not unlike the various treasure chests kept by monsters and as guards to divine treasures. It was a little more square – an old steamer trunk. He opened it and found decayed bits of unrecognizable things – stuff that may have once been blankets and clothing, and a few pictographs.

People had pictographs in the past? From what he'd seen, Link was sure he'd see something more otherworldly. He rifled through them. He saw a picture of the family he'd seen in the Timeshift, standing in front of their home. Then he found more pictures of Scrapper next to aged versions of Chain and Charley, then one with him next to just Charley. At least, that's who Link thought the people were – they certainly looked like they had similar facial features, only older. Charley had become a beautiful young woman.

"I wonder what happened to them," Link sighed.

Fi attempted an answer. "It is probable that they eventually moved to Loft. There is 90% probability that Loft is related to Skyloft in some fashion."

"It's probably the area that became home," Link said. "Skyloft was a part of the Surface in the old legends. Nobody believes them anymore, but then I came to the Surface, and, well… and now I just met some of our ancestors. Fi, I think my head is gonna explode."

"There is a 0% possibility of that happening, Master, 12% if you are referring to an actual medical condition such as an aneurism."

"12%, huh?"

"My analysis of your body indicates that you are perfectly healthy, Master Link, if mildly stressed."

Link put the pictographs into his pouch. He knew they'd just rot out here. He thought that they might make a good gift for Gondo and his mother, should they want to retrace their family tree, or good study materials for the instructors at the Knight Academy in regards to history. He already had a lot of explaining to do to them.

The swordsman stepped out of the ruins of the homestead. He gazed longingly at the place where their "sun-sailer" had been parked and wondered about that piece of technology. From what he could pick up, it hovered and flew, presumably catching energy from the sun in its sailcloth. He wondered if it was as fast as a Loftwing, and if it could fly higher. Its design made it look like it kept fairly low to the ground. He doubted it would have broken the invisible cloud barrier high above which is probably why such wonderful things did not exist anymore.

He stubbed the toe of his boot on a stone buried in the sand. "Son of a Remlit!" he cursed before using his Gust Bellows to clear the sand away. He nearly choked.

"Gravestones," he sighed, shaking his head. They were smooth and the color of the sand around them. There were three of them. Link could just make out the script. It was like his language, but the letters had a slightly different font to what he usually saw and a couple of the letters looked backwards. He remembered the oldest of the books the Academy instructors kept had this same kind of script. "Fenwick Miyahon Atacama," he read. He tried to read the date, but it was indecipherable, with a big chunk of the tombstone gouged out. The gravestone next to his was intact, but seemed to have deliberately no date. "Fern Fitzgerald Atacama." The grave adjacent to them read a single, simple name, "Fido."

"Fido," Link mouthed. "That was dog. Fi…do." Dogs were uncommon among Skyloftians. A few people on the outlying islands had them, but they could not fly and were generally too much trouble to carry aboard Loftwings. Link wondered if they were more popular pets down here in the past.

"Fido," Fi repeated. I can sense what you are wondering, Master. Indeed, the animal's name is derived from the same root as mine is – Fidelity, faithfulness, loyalty."

Link smiled. "You are loyal. Emotional intuitiveness of a brick, but loyal. I guess the old man just didn't want to give up the ol' homestead, and his wife stayed with him."

"You are profoundly troubled, Master Link."

"I just met these people, well, I didn't really meet them, I could only watch, and now I am kneeling before their graves." Link reached into his item pouch and pulled forth an Ancient Flower. He laid it on the sandy earth before the headstones. He bowed his head and said a silent prayer for the souls of the people he was standing over, though he did not know if the old gods were listening.

"I sense that the family had many happy years here and carried their happy memories in peace," Fi said. "Let your human rituals comfort you."

"They do," Link said with a nod. "I think I might like to find that Timeshift Stone again and come back to visit them."

"That is unwise, Master. We have matters to attend to. The dead belong to the past and should be left to rest."

"I suppose so. Did you see a statue anywhere around here?"

"You wish to return to the sky, Master?"

"Yeah, as soon as possible. I'm sure there's a rude little robot that's missing you and I need to get this shield repaired!"

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><p><strong>END.<strong>

Endnotes: "Captain Link" was inspired by the part of the game early on where Zelda gives you the sailcloth and talks about the "ancient hero" that had one. I thought about that and then thought "Hey, maybe that ancient hero chased robo-pirates around on the ancient sea?" I wanted to put more in the way of references to the prequel manga, but I didn't' know how to work it in. I figured (at least for the sake of this story) that the portions past that we see of Lanayru are prequel to even that, especially since I only got to read half the translation of the manga before History of Hyrule pooted out on me. (I don't know whether it's them or my browser). The history here was just pulled out of the space between my ears.

"Chronolites" – I did not make up that term. I found it on Skyward Sword's page on TV Tropes, underneath the Your Mileage May Vary section – it referenced translations for the game in various languages. English-speaking audiences got "Timeshift Stones," apparently people playing this game in France and Spain got "Chronolites" and I just thought that name was cool and sounded very geologic.

I wrote this in one day – a day off when I was not feeling well and was perched in bed. Hey, it beat sleep.


End file.
